Download e-book for kindle: All's Well That Ends (Amanda Pepper, Book 14) by Gillian Roberts

Amanda's buddy Sasha's stepmother has simply devoted suicide—although, based on Sasha, Phoebe Ennis could by no means have killed herself, particularly no longer whereas having a drink and donning a purple silk shirt and purple sandals with four-inch heels. Amanda isn't persuaded, yet reluctantly concurs to aid examine the woman's death, even though the proof for foul play is slender. real, the middle-aged compulsive collector of knickknacks wasn't universally enjoyed. Phoebe's personal son hated her, and he or she bored her neighbors to dying with tricks of her "royal" lineage. And with 4 marriages at the back of her, she used to be already getting ready to announce her renewed availability on the web. but if one other lady is located useless in Phoebe's apartment, it turns into transparent that anything is certainly murderously amiss, and lots more and plenty towards domestic than Amanda or somebody else can have imagined.

Unsolved crimes have a different fascination, none extra so than unsolved murders. The surprise of the crime itself and the secret surrounding it, the terror generated by way of the attention a killer at the unfastened, the perception the circumstances supply into superseded police equipment, and the opportunity to invest concerning the id of the killer after such a lot of years have handed - these kind of facets of unsolved homicide situations lead them to compelling interpreting.

It truly is no usual Christmas at Lexham Manor. Six vacation visitors locate themselves the suspects of a homicide enquiry whilst the outdated Scrooge, Nathaniel Herriad, who owns the tremendous property, is located stabbed within the again. For Inspector Hemingway of Scotland backyard, ‘tis the season to discover whodunit yet it’s a true conundrum how any of the suspects may have entered the locked room to dedicate this foul deed within the first position.

She laughed even as she felt the muscles around her heart tighten with an inexplicable pain. This subtle form of heart attack had been with Anna since the Friday night Paul had taken her to the Episcopal church in Port Gibson, where he occasionally fulfilled the office of priest when Father Sam was out of town and when Paul's duties of apprehending criminals didn't take precedence over his job of forgiving them. It had been late spring. The foliage around the two-century-old, barn-red church had already matured into a fecund green that whispered of summer.

Brick arches at ground and second floor, one after the other in an unbroken line, surrounded an expanse of grass so dry it crackled underfoot. Twin houses, officer quarters during the Civil War, now served as quarters for the absent Lanny Wilcox and Bob and Teddy Shaw. Around the edges of the parade ground, inside the heavy walls, were scattered ruins from when Jefferson was home to troops, prisoners, slaves, cooks, washerwomen, officers, wives and daughters: the skeletal remains of a Civil War barracks, razed by the NPS when safety had broil a higher priority than preservation; two half-finished armories, their under-roofs rounded like their later relative, the Quonset hut; a half disassembled shot oven; the foundation for what started out to be a church to a soldier's god but ended life as a below-ground cistern for the federal government.

Tilly promised to be "quiet as a mouse," as she has since she was three, but I took it as a sign she'd matured when she refrained from making those tiny squeaky mouse sounds as she walked. "We've got to hurry," I warned. "Major Tanner is making his curtain speech at eight, and Joel Lane is singing 'Take Me Home' right after," I said quickly. Calling of Private Lane to mind was oddly prophetic-pathetic-as you shall see if I ever finish this letter-become-tome. The mention of Joel's singing stopped her planned argument, as I knew it would.